In case you were wondering, some of the parts to make my groovy Rough Riders were sculpted by Rob at Curious Constructs.

Friday, 10 August 2012

The Thunder Guard's arrival on the Grand Cruiser Praetoriae Vindictam.

(Four posts in two days- staying at home with a cold has done
wonders form my blog!)

Here is a short narrative of an officers of the fleet
regiment's initial meeting with several Thunder Guard officers aboard the Grand Cruiser Praetoriae Vindictam.

Expeditionary
Lieutenant Creswell opened the wardroom hatch and stepped into the anteroom for
the fortnightly officer’s game of Mordian Holdem. Seated at the
long-table in the room's centre, were five cavalry officers from various
regiments of the Thunder Guard. Creswell was momentary caught off guard. He had
not expected the Thunder Guard to embark until the following rotation, but
obviously they had arrived early.

Peculiarly,
the five cavalry officers started tapping the backs of their hands on the
long-table. Each officer's large cavalry ring taped slowly and softly at first, but quickly
grew louder and faster until it was a thundering raw. Then all of a sudden,
the crescendo of banging abruptly halted. Slowly and deliberately the five
faces turned to look at him. He shrunk at the combination of pained,
emotionless and absent stares from their aged faces. None of them had to be older
than him, yet their faces were hagged by the truth of bloody war. The Captain of
Horse closest to him had a scar running down his check, contorting the edge of
his mouth and giving his right eye an unnerving twitch.

“Arrhh,”

Creswell
attempted an ‘excuse me’ before leaving, but was ashamed when he realised his
dry mouth had forsaken him. It appeared that his voice had cowardly retreated
along with the natural charm and swagger that usually accompanied his grey-blue
tunic. He had wished his missing traits had dragged him away whenever they had
left. Just when Creswell believed the tension would actually kill him,
Lieutenant Commander Chorley (Praetorian Navy) appeared at the rear starboard
hatch of the anteroom.

“Harr
Creswell, there you are chap, we have relegated ourselves to the Qatar Master
Wardroom, through here lad.”

Creswell’s
legs moved like they were on a parade, down the left of the long-table and
through the rear starboard hatch. He made a mental note to find out where on
the ship the cavalry officers were lodged and avoid them until they next made
planet fall.